


Hand in Unlovable Hand

by corvidkohai



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: M/M, Puppet Cloud Strife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvidkohai/pseuds/corvidkohai
Summary: Cloud would do anything to prove his devotion to Sephiroth; he finally gets his chance to.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	Hand in Unlovable Hand

Sometimes, they were a whirlpool, a cyclone, pulling everything around them in and sucking it down into their depths to their destruction. 

But sometimes, they were the low fog, the morning mist, hanging quietly in the still air. 

They sat together, watching the sunset. Cloud’s feet were dangling off the rocky outcropping and into the lake below, the water lapping quietly at his ankles. If they needed to move in a hurry, he was enhanced enough to bear the potential injuries. He would bear anything he had to for Sephiroth. 

The sun slowly sank, the water turning burnished reds and golds until it settled finally to black. The ripples refracted the stars perfectly, the lake looking like a pool of crushed diamonds. It was perfect. The moment was perfect. And perfect was the minimum Sephiroth deserved. 

On some silent cue, Sephiroth finally deigned to address him. 

“Cloud,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

Cloud smiled slowly, like the dawn that would come tomorrow. He looked to Sephiroth, head tilted. He tucked his hands beneath his thighs and leaned forward. 

“Of course I trust you,” he answered, the honesty wavering between them, in the air and the cells they shared, palpable. “With my life. With my soul. With everything that I am.”

Sephiroth turned to look at him, considering. They both knew he was being honest, but something in Sephiroth still looked doubtful. Like this simple truth was impossible. He understood, of course; it  _ would _ have been impossible, not long ago. But Cloud had seen the light, and now that he had, it was as impossible to deny as the sun that had sunk beneath their feet. 

“Get in the water.”

Cloud listened without hesitation, slipping into the cold water. It shocked his lungs, kicking the air in them free. He took shallow breaths until he got used to the water, his hands holding onto the rock. He didn’t know how to swim, after all. Sephiroth knew that. He’d forgive him for holding on. 

Except Sephiroth leaned down and slowly took his hands, one by one, until Sephiroth himself was his lifeline, his only rope to safety. He held his hands tightly. His legs kicked helplessly, uselessly in the water. Trying to help keep him afloat, despite not knowing how. 

Sephiroth stared down at him. Cloud’s soaked clothes and armor weighed him down, but Sephiroth seemed to have no problems keeping him at the surface. He even released one hand, trailing his fingers down Cloud’s cheek to softly take his chin. 

“My little blond mirror,” Sephiroth said, and Cloud smiled beatifically back at him, blinking eyes that stared up at their twins. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything.”

“Would you like a chance to prove it?”

Cloud’s face lit like the impending dawn. 

“ _ Yes _ .”

Sephiroth watched, his gaze painfully intent. It made Cloud feel like a butterfly on a board, but he’d be happily pinned wherever Sephiroth put him, as long as he continued to look at him. 

“Blow out your breath.”

Cloud obeyed instantly, blowing it out slowly. By the time his lungs were empty, and he went to draw in more of the sweet night air, Sephiroth did something strange. 

He let him go. 

The water rushed quickly over Cloud’s head, the weight of his armor dragging him down. He didn’t have time even for a breath before he was under. He didn’t fight to stay afloat. He didn’t thrash or make poor attempts to swim. Sephiroth knew he couldn’t. He let him go with that knowledge. 

This was not an exercise in survival. It was an exercise in trust. In devotion. 

Cloud held his empty lungs still as long as he could. They burned—dear  _ gods _ , they burned. But he would try to hold out as long as he could. 

Cloud’s arms and legs drifted in front of him as he was drawn down by his back. He shut his eyes and let the undertow take him. 

_ Breathe _ , came the order from Sephiroth, zipping into Cloud along the threads that bound them. 

So, purposefully, Cloud sucked in the frigid water of the lake. 

It was like filling his lungs with ice. It reminded him of the wind atop Mt. Nibel, so strong and cold that you had to draw another breath, fast, because the first didn’t seem to quite take. He tried, instinctively, to push the water from his lungs. If he succeeded, he didn’t know—all he had to replace it was more of the same. 

His hands twitched to his throat, his legs twitched with the desperate urge to  _ try  _ to swim. He consciously relaxed them. 

This was an exercise in trust. In devotion. 

He stopped fighting. 

He drifted. 

His lungs burned, and he had to fight the urge to retch, but it would be worth it.

He just had to trust. 

The world was starting to go black. 

Had he sunk too low? Could the light not reach him?

Was his vision simply going dark? Had he been without air too long?

The darkness drew him in, swaddled him in velvet softness, cradled him in inky down. 

He felt a strong hand hand grab one of his, and then the darkness claimed him completely. 

He thought of nothing. 

He saw, felt,  _ was _ nothing. 

Then the light came back, starlight burning as bright to his aching eyes as the dawn. He realized he lost the battle with retching, forcing the water out of him. But there was a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. More importantly, there was unbridled calm being filtered through the bond between them. Acceptance. Affection. 

He had done well. 

Eventually, the water was clear. He sat back on his heels and sat back to look up at Sephiroth, his eyes wide and teary. Hoping. Asking. 

Sephiroth carded his fingers through Cloud’s sodden locks. He made a tight fist there, causing water to trickle down Cloud’s scalp and into his eyes. He blinked it away as Sephiroth held him fast. 

He ducked down, hand still held tight, and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. Cloud’s lips parted easily, and Sephiroth seemed determined to steal the newly-won breath from his lungs. His lips were still numb from the cold. He worried about the taste, but Sephiroth didn’t seem to mind, his tongue delving deep into Cloud’s mouth. Cloud whimpered at his reward. 

Sephiroth pulled away. He slid his fingers through Cloud’s hair to cup the back of his head. He tilted his face up and placed a kiss between his brows. 

A second reward. A benediction. A blessing he did not deserve. 

Not that he would ever complain. He would take whatever his god had to give him, benediction or malediction or anything in between. 


End file.
